


O' Death

by ah_technical_difficulties



Category: Achievement Hunter, FAHC - Fandom, Fake AH crew - Fandom, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Demonic Possession, Demons, FAHC, Fake AH Crew, Mentioned Ray Narvaez Jr., Mogar, Possessed Ryan Haywood, Possible Jeremy Dooley/Ryan Haywood, Possible jeremwood, Ray added in, Ryan-centric, Suicidal Thoughts, Vagabond, Violent Thoughts, golden boy - Freeform, rimmy tim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2018-12-05 07:16:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11573094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ah_technical_difficulties/pseuds/ah_technical_difficulties
Summary: Ryan Haywood is the Vagabond. One of the deadliest criminals in Los Santos. The mad man from the Fake AH Crew. Only it wasn't his choice. Years ago he made a terrible mistake during his modeling career and now his past demons are coming to haunt him. Literally.





	1. Afraid

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome everyone! I really hope this is enjoyed by everyone as much as I enjoy it. As I put in the tags this might eventually turn into a Jeremwood fic but I honestly doubt it because this idea I have already has so much going on and adding a relationship to it sounds like a lot of work. Feel free to leave comments. Criticism is absolutely welcomed.  
> Anyways, please enjoy!!!
> 
>  
> 
> (For the record, this story was inspired by the song O Death by Jen Titus.)

  
  


  Ryan wakes in the back of a moving van. Blue eyes scan the surroundings as his heart rate picks up. Straight across him is a man decked out in everything orange and purple. Even the rifle in his hand matches. Ryan nervously eyes said rifle. He knows the man is familiar, but his brain refuses to supply an answer. All he knows is no one has questioned why he's awake, meaning he is here willingly. 

 

  To his right a man, taller than the last, sits with his phone in hand and a pistol in his lap. His dirty blonde hair is the brightest thing about his outfit. Across from him another man with almost red, curly hair calls him “Boi.”

 

  Ryan still can't remember who they are. 

 

  “Great work guys! Another successful heist written in the books!” 

 

  Ryan tries not to jump when a man in the front passenger seat turns to speak to them. Driving the van is a woman in an Hawaiian shirt with red hair. When she speaks Ryan’s blood runs cold. 

 

  “Ryan, you were an animal out there! Normally, I try not to encourage you, but if you hadn't stepped in and practically ripped that man's throat out, Michael would have been dead.” 

 

  Hands begin to shake as the man in question looks down. The nervous hands are covered in someone's blood and by his feet lays a rather dangerous looking machine gun. Ryan reaches up to feel his face only to obtain contact with a cold unforgiving mask.

  “Ryan?” 

 

  Blue eyes shoot up to meet the man in orange and purple.

 

  “Jeremy?” his voice somehow supplied the answer. 

 

  Slowly, Ryan was remembering where he was, who he was with, and who he was. 

 

  “Thought we lost ya there, Battle Buddy. You okay?” Jeremy asked. 

  “Great. Just thinking… about what Geoff said.” names were coming back to his mind. So was the act he had to perform around this group of men. 

 

  “What's wrong with what I said?” Geoff’s voice raises at the end in a comical sort of way. 

 

  Ryan hesitates before forcing a laugh. “Another successful heist? When have we ever been successful?” 

 

  The van erupts into laughter. No one notices how uncomfortable and forced Ryan’s is. 

 

×××××

 

  Once the crew arrives back at their safe house, Ryan locks himself in his room. The others classify it as “normal.”

 

  Memory comes at Ryan like a train. He is Ryan Haywood. The Vagabond, part of the Fake AH Crew. He is one of the deadliest killers out there. Only that's not him. He doesn't actually do anything. Some would call it multiple personality disorder, but Ryan knows better. It's something supernatural. Demonic if you will. All because he was stupid years ago. Now, anytime he let's his guard down, the monster comes out to play. 

 

  Taking the mask off is always a relief. Why the demons choose to wear this. He'll never know. It sticks to his skin uncomfortably and leaves red marks around his eyes. Technically those could be from lack of sleep, but who's going to correct him. With a sigh, the Vagabond sheds his metaphorical battle armor and tries to wash away the facepaint and blood from today's events with a shower hotter than Hell.

 

  Once “clean” he checks himself in the mirror, using his towel to wipe away the fog on the glass. There before him stands a corpse. Tired eyes stare back at him, once so bright and vibrant. They now remind him of murky lake water. Bruises wrap around his neck in the shape of a hand. Scars cover his chest and back and his bones are showing way to much for his liking. This is the side of the great Vagabond that the rest of the crew and the world doesn't see. 

 

  A knock on his door takes him out of his trance caused by self pity. He quickly wraps a towel around his waist before unlocking his door and opening it just enough to see Gavin standing there with a dopey grin on his face. 

 

  “No.” Ryan tries to slam the door but the Brit wedges his foot in the way. The force of the door makes Gavin squawk in pain.

 

  “Oh come on, you don't even know wot I'm going to say.” 

 

  “Exactly. That's why I said no.” Ryan glared. He hated to act this way towards anyone, but no one could know what was happening to him and he had to keep this psychopath act up for reasons he didn't fully understand.

 

  “But, the Lads want to go out and we-”

 

  “Need someone to babysit. Tempting, but still no.” Ryan interrupted. It's true he personally didn't drink, so that left him the designated driver/ guardian of the whole crew, but he wasn't even sure why the monsters wouldn't let the Vagabond drink either. 

 

  Gavin crossed his arms and pouted, reassembling a small child. “You're no fun, you pleb.” 

 

  “Thank you.” Ryan smiled and swung the door shut now that Gavin had moved his foot.

 

  Once again surrounded by the darkness of his room, the great Vagabond, crumpled to the floor. Sadness and confusion overtook him as he regretted every moment of his life. He ignored the slight chill that was caused by only wearing a towel as he rested his head on his knees and tried not to cry.

 

  He hated the Vagabond. Hell he hated the crew. No necessarily the people, he just hated what together they could accomplish. 

 

  Ryan eventually calmed his breathing before getting up to find clothes. He stared into his generously large closet, debating if he should apologize to Gavin and go out with them. He'd feel terrible if something happened to them because he said no, but he couldn't risk his inner demons being set loose on the town again. With a loud sigh he settled for a black t-shirt and a pair of boxers. 

  A small hiss left his throat when he climbed into bed, causing a pulled muscle in his leg to flare up in pain. He ignored it and fell onto his back dramatically, hoping sleep would finally take over. 

 

  Truth be told, Ryan can't remember the last time he slept well. Like this morning, he awoke in the van with the crew, which means his mind and body was taken over in the middle of the night. There wasn't much he could do to prevent the change when asleep so he made up for it by basically neglecting his health. If he was weak so were the demons. He rarely ate, drank barely enough water, and got sleep only when he was seconds from passing out. Today was an exception though. Ryan was to emotionally drained to try and stay up. He prayed for a break. 

 

  The clock on his nightstand flipped to midnight. Blue eyes finally started to slide shut. The room became significantly colder. Once Ryan fully closed his eyes a icy blue mist circled the foot of his bed. What sounded like a whisper caused the man to stir in his sleep, not fully waking him though. 

 

  Ryan laid in bed, completely unaware that the mist was creeping up his sleeping form, changing into what resembled a transparent hand. It stopped once it reached his face only to brush his hair out of his face. The contact caused Ryan to open his eyes slowly.

 

  Before he could shout the hand locked onto his throat, blocking his airway. He tried to struggle. To claw at the intruder, but nothing seemed to work. Eventually, he gave up. Part of him welcomed death. He began to wonder what the crew could say. 

What felt like hours passed before he started to pass out. He became startled when he felt air enter his lungs again. The air felt cold as he breathed in something that wasn't just air. 

 

  The blue mist filled his lungs. It flowed through his entire being. His breath slowed as his mental state slipped away. A smirk formed in his lips as he opened his eyes that were practically on fire with blue flames. 

  
  The Vagabond was ready to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always appreciated. I plan on adding a new chapter once a week so keep a look out! 
> 
> To hear more of my ramblings give me a follow!
> 
> Tumblr- ah-technical-difficulties.tumblr.com


	2. Bloody Shirt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really nervous about this one. It's really hard to write the two minds in one thing to be honest. I'd appreciate feedback though.

 

  “Ryan, what made you change your mind about coming with us?” the usually anger Michael Jones raised an eyebrow at his masked comrade who was currently driving one of the crews many cars.

 

  The three lads were completely unaware of the fact that Ryan wasn't himself at the moment. Deep within his being flowed one of the many demons that has haunted him for years now. This particular entity was basically the joker of the group. It was the chaotic good compared to the rest, causing mayhem for others enjoyment. 

 

  “Well I couldn't really let you guys have all the fun now, could I?” Ryan voiced with a deep chuckle. In the rearview mirror, Gavin eyed him suspiciously.

 

  Ryan was the only one dressed in his crew gear. Face paint covered his face behind the thick skull mask the Vagabond side of him loved to wear so much. His jacket was zipped almost all the way up, hiding a few carefully chosen weapons. His eyes were a blinding bright blue, sending chills up anyone's spine.

 

  Gavin had had opted out for a plain grey t-shirt and black shorts. He usually tried to keep everything casual when out on the town. Jeremy, while in less flashy clothes, still sported his orange and purple mashup. His purple shirt clashed horrifically with his vibrant orange jeans. Michael had chosen his outfit at random, mainly because he assumed he'd get in a bar fight and didn't want to ruin his nicer stuff. A red t-shirt and blue jeans covered his body, while his signature hair was hidden under a grey beanie. None of the lads brought a weapon, assuming Ryan had them covered.

 

  Rain began to fall as the car reached their destination. The red neon lights of the bar’s open sign flooded the car and it's passengers. Loud music blared from the closed doors of the establishment. 

 

  “Come on you bastards. Let's get inside while the moon is still out.” the level of comfort Gavin’s accent brought to the crew drew everyone, except Ryan, back to reality as they all became equally excited for the night ahead of them.

 

  The Vagabond parked the car and slowly made his way inside after the lads. Deep in his subconscious, a voice was screaming out for someone to help him. For anyone to figure out this wasn't him, but his demons were louder. They always were and tonight the demon that wanted to play tonight decided it had enough of Ryan and really wanted to party for once.

 

**~ ~ ~ ~ ~**

 

  Three pairs of surprised eyes, stared at Ryan as he threw back another shot of Whiskey. 

 

  “I thought you didn't drink?” Jeremy finally blurted out, his concern spilling from his words. 

 

  “God dammit Ryan, you were our designated driver.” Michael flamed at the older man.

 

  The Vagabond laughed a deep, dangerous laugh. “I thought you wanted to have fun? Was I wrong?”

 

  The Lads glanced between one another. Sure they were having fun, but it wasn't like Ryan to drink anything but Diet Coke. 

 

  “Are you okay, buddy?” Even while Ryan was seated in a barstool, Jeremy had to look up slightly to meet his gaze. 

 

  “Peachy. Now let's go have some fun.” 

 

  Dread filled the younger members of the crew as Ryan hopped off his seat and left the bar without realizing he left his skull mask on the counter. Something was off, but the Lads being who they were didn't want to pass up an opportunity to party with the Vagabond. One by one they exited the bar to find a slightly inebriated Ryan jumping back and forth between the roofs of two cars. With each jump the windshields cracked more and more. 

 

  “Oh man, if Geoff hears about all the commotion we're causing-” 

 

  Michael interrupted a panicked Gavin. “Boi, we aren't the ones causing the ruckus. We can't get blamed for something we didn't do.”

 

  The other two Lads raised an eyebrow as they frown. Michael shrugged his shoulders and sighed.

 

  “Okay, I  mean sure we've been framed loads of times but this is different” 

 

  Gavin breathed out a small laugh, thankful that his friend always new how to calm him down. 

 

  “Alright. I say we grab Ryan and get him home.” Jeremy chimed in.

 

  The three men glance between each other waiting for someone to volunteer for the task. Soon loud bickering was the only sound in the parking lot. Not a single Lad noticed that Ryan had stopped causing collateral damage and was no longer in the bar’s parking lot. 

 

  The sound of his heart was beating in his ear. Sweat covered his face, causing his face paint to run. His skin was burning. Burning to cause more mayhem. The demon had already silenced Ryan by doing the one thing he'd never do. Drink. Deep down Ryan couldn't argue with the creature that loved to cause so much destruction to his body or his city anymore. Ryan's face broke out into a wicked smile that would make anyone's blood run cold. The demon had won for the night. 

 

  Surprisingly the streets of Los Santos were borderline empty for once, which meant very few innocent people would get hurt, but the number of fires Ryan's hands had already caused on the way to the inner city was too high for anyone in the Fakes liking. Sirens practically shouted throughout the whole city, but they would never catch the Vagabond. Not when in this state. 

 

  Each entity was able to use one ability of their's when possessing Ryan. Some could move things with their mind others we just quicker than any human could or should be. More often than not they used speed to get where they wanted and to flee from their crimes. 

 

  Ryan had now found himself down a rather dark alley, when he heard a deep voice call out. “Well boys, look at this. The Vagabond is here to pay us a visit.” 

 

  It was too dark to see how many people were in the alley with him. The only thing visible was the bright blue in Ryan's eyes. 

 

  “I knew you'd be snooping around the city sooner or later. Every crew in town knows you never stay in one place so we figured you betray the Fakes and find someone better.” a man with wild greasy hair and a unkempt beard wheezed out. 

 

  They all smelled horrible. But past that the Ryan could smell their blood and hear their hearts racing. The demon loved it.

 

  Deep down, rage began to boil at what the man had said. Sure he was the Vagabond and sure he didn't really like this life, but he wasn't always possessed around the crew and the real him had grown to care for those criminals. He was there to protect them he was there to make sure they didn't do anything to stupid. 

 

  He was part of their crew. 

 

  His rage began to grow during his internal crisis. The group of men in front of him were to busy cheering about them getting the Vagabond in their crew to notice that said criminal was circling around them as if they were his next meal. 

 

  Human against demon we fighting inside Ryan's being as one wanted to feed and the other didn't want to be a criminal. Realization hit Ryan like a truck. He hated it but he had grown to care for the crew. There was no going back to his life before crime. He was the Vagabond. He had become the monster.

 

  The crew in front of him all handed out drinks during their celebration. During their time of triumph, Ryan's sights were set on one thing.  

 

_ Kill. _

 

  He thought it the demon took care of the rest. With quick reflexes he lunges forward grabbing on to the supposed leaders skull on both sides and crushing it together without batting an eye. A cloud of fear washed over the whole alleyway. It was them verses a monster. 

 

  Ryan's eyes scanned for the next target. With a smile he stepped over his first victim and grabbed a man by his throat and lifted him up. The rest of the crew began to flee, leaving the unlucky victim to fend for himself. Ryan knew he could catch up to them quickly.

 

  “Please. Put me down. I'll do anything.” The man clawed at Ryan's arm as he tried to speak. Ryan's hand slowly began crushing the man's throat. 

 

  “Why are you doing this?”

 

  The demon laughed, his eyes looked like blue flames. Inside Ryan felt sick at what he was doing but at the same time he hated to think about how much he was enjoying this. He wanted everyone to know he'd never betray his crew whether he liked being part of it or not. 

 

  The man's vocal cords practically busted all over the Vagabond’s arm and face. The sound of Ryan dropping the body echoed down the dark walls. He turned to follow after the rest of the crew when he heard a familiar sound. 

 

  “Rye?” 

 

  It was like he was a wild animal being startled. The smell of blood made Jeremy shudder. Sure the crew has killed before and sure they've seen Ryan to some scary things but the was different. 

 

  “Are you okay buddy?”

 

  Slowly Ryan took in the situation. Realized what he allowed to happen. A choked sound escaped his throat when he felt the blood on his hands. He could hear the laugh of a monster as the supernatural being drained from his body.

 

  Jeremy could've sworn he saw Ryan's eyes change colors as a blue air flow out of the alley. “Ryan. I'm walking towards you now okay?”

 

  The demon was gone for the night and before Ryan could tell Jeremy to stay away his balance wavered and he fell on his side, letting sleep wash over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hate it? Like it? Let me know in the comments!!!!


	3. Wires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan deals with the consequences of his actions that he can't remember.
> 
> It's a rather subtle chapter. Not a whole lot of dialogue, just quite a bit of internal and mental conflict.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, sorry for that wait. Lot of job opportunities outside of my fandom life and I've just been too busy to finosh this up, but here we go!!!
> 
> I'm worried this is too short but I honestly like this chapter. Feed back is appreciated but definitely not needed. Enjoy the chapter guys!

  Muffled voices mixed with the ringing in Ryan's ears. His skull felt like it was shattered. His eyes slowly tore open to see he was in his room. He tried moving, but his body refused. It looked like sleep paralysis was a new feature to add to his instruction manual. Sweat cover his stiff fingers. His skin crawled and burned all over. His body's telltale sign of a brief possession. The yelling outside his door grew closer. Fear set in. What had he done last night? Did he hurt someone in the Crew? He wanted answers but part of him was afraid of being scolded by Geoff. His heart pounded behind his eyes, cause the pain in his skull to flare up. A breath of relief wheezed out of his lungs once the voices and footsteps continued past his room. 

 

  Slowly, the numbness and buzzing he felt throughout his internal wiring faded and he was able to wiggle his fingers. With a grunt he eventually pushed his stiff body off of his worn out mattress. A shower sounded like a smart idea. It would probably be the best way to loosen his muscles and let the Crew know he was, reluctantly awake. Ryan tried to ignore his reflection once he entered his personal bathroom, but it was as if something pulled at his attention span. His eyes made contact with the reflective surface causing his spine to shiver. The facet paint was back on his skin. It was mixed with dried blood that the Vagabond was certain, wasn't his. At this point he wished it was. Trembling hands reached to pull at his under eyes, in hopes to give him better access to hits eyes. Only Ryan himself would notice how his naturally deep blue eyes now had flickers of orange growing like mold through the irises. Fear set in as he became aware that another possession was coming for him. It could be hours away, or within the next twenty minutes. His brain couldn't recall what orange meant. 

 

  “A quick shower it is.” the crack in his voice hurt his head. He sounded as bad as he looked. He sounded dead.

 

  This shower required water hotter than hell if he wanted all of his victim's blood and the greasy face paint off his body. Once out of his clothes Ryan noticed that the blood ran up his arms from his finger tips. It stopped about halfway up his forearms. The burn of vomit tickled his already raw throat. It felt like he had swallowed fire while he was under new management for the night. With a shake of his already dizzy head, Ryan stepped into the scalding hot water, with a groan of relief.

 

  Without the help of his mirror, he could no longer see how much the orange virus had taken over his eyes. 

 

  Ryan dared to close his eyes and let a small smile creep onto his face as the water rinsed all the offending intrusions on his face and in his hair. It was at that moment a rather irritated Geoff bursted in the room and opened the shower door with a slam, ignoring the fact that Ryan was very much naked.

 

  “What?” the Vagabond hissed. 

 

  Geoff fumed. Outraged that Ryan of all people would speak to him like that after what he did.

  “You were suppose to keep an eye on them. Not have a fuckin’ killer mid life crisis. Now I have to deal with some asshat who says he's the Kingpin of some crew in West Los Santos. What the hell were you doing there anyways? Why did you just go on a killing spree? Why aren't you  _ answering me? _ ”

 

   Silence fell between the two. The only sound was the shower flicking onto Ryan's now pink skin. All of the blood was off his face and arms. All that remained was dark black circles around his eyes from the paint. The water had caused it to run down his cheeks, giving him a look that would make anyone think twice about crossing him. Geoff’s rage hadn't backed down once since entering Ryan’s room. It reminded the Vagabond of Michael.

 

  “ _ Well? _ ”

 

  Ryan’s eventually released a sigh out of his nostrils. “..Geoff-”

 

  “No! I don't want to hear it! No excuses!” Geoff’s face was turning red as he cut off Ryan.

 

  “Do you know how many people came at me, telling me to control my  _ raging dog  _ of a crew mate?”

 

  Ryan’s lip twitched into a grimace at the word dog. Geoff didn't notice as he ran his hand through his hair in frustration and disappointment.

 

  “Look, this isn't like you. I get it you're the murder guy, but you usually have more control so has a precaution… two weeks suspension.” Geoff’s tone was final.

 

  “What!” it wasn't so much of question. It was more of an invitation for Geoff to dare say those words again.

 

**_‘Why do you care? You hate this job.”_ **

 

  Ryan’s mentally cursed his brain for tangling his emotions. He wasn't even sure what emotions were his anymore. It scared him. What if he didn't hate this life? 

 

  “Two. Weeks. Suspension.” the pauses between each word pissed Ryan’s off more. Geoff’s eyes were locked with Ryan's orange ones. Neither of them backing down.

 

**_‘Geoff needs to watch himself.”_ **

 

  “I'm sorry, Ryan. I'm putting you on a murder break until you sort out whatever this mess is about.” 

 

  Geoff turned to leave before Ryan could debate the issue any further, but not before he threw a towel back the way he came and spoke without looking back.

 

  “You missed a spot.” 

 

  With a grumble Ryan slid the shower door close. A quick scrub over his eyes removed the last of the paint from his pores. It was really a shame that the one time he was relaxed, his boss had to Hulk his way in and nearly fire him. Rage boiled his blood up the back of his neck and in his face. Part of him hated the feeling of anger. The way the heat of it wrapped you up, leaving you nowhere to go as you stew in it. 

 

  Once out of the shower Ryan ignored his reflection completely, not even thinking about checking his eyes. He also wasn't in the mood to see his nearly skeletal self. But, Geoff had seen him. Bones and all. Why didn't he react? Did he even notice or did Ryan fuck up so bad he didn't care? Ryan then realized he still couldn't remember what he did to cause this much trouble. 

  
  Once a towel was around his waist, the Vagabond swayed out into his room to find clothes. It was honestly a shame that neither he of Geoff noticed that as soon the furious leader of the Fakes left the Vagabond’s bathroom, the orange drained from Ryan’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright there it is. Next one coming soon I promise. I actually recently had a new idea for how this will play out and it's really helped me figure out how to write Ryan's role. (Poor Ryan I feel bad for the stuff I have planned) stay tuned to find out what that means.


	4. Wreaking Crew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There's only room for one hero in this story and everyone knows the devil doesn't get to be the good guy."
> 
> -Joe Hill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that. Me postin quickly? Whaatt?
> 
>  
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this one. I hope you guys enjoy reading it!

 

  No one dared to upset Ryan during his suspension from the Crew. The thick cloud of fear and nerves would swallow anyone whole if he decided to leave his room. In the end, guilt was slowly gnawing on Geoff’s mental state. He meant well, at least that's what he told himself, but he couldn't get the look of fear on Jeremy's face as he kicked the front door down with an unconscious Ryan in his arms, out of his brain. Thankfully the Lads had split up to find the Vagabond once he left the bar scene, so Gavin and Michael didn't see the literal blood bath Ryan left behind. 

 

  Jeremy didn't show if he was bothered. He seemed more worried about Ryan. It concerned Geoff that he wasn't the only one to realize the truth. 

 

  Something was wrong with Ryan. 

 

  “I'm fine.” Ryan sounded sick. 

 

  “Look Rye, you can talk to us about anything.” Jack’s soft hand rested on a rather tense Ryan. 

 

  “I'm.  _ Fine.”   _

 

   Jack didn't flinch when Ryan's bright yellow eyes tried to burn hers. “Snapping at your friends suggests otherwise.”

 

  Ryan practically growled back at her. “You act like I'm never an asshole.”

 

  “Trying to make me laugh won't help you either.”

 

  Jack’s eyebrows furrowed together once her comment made Ryan jump off his bed in irritation. 

 

  “Can you please just let me enjoy some alone time?” the Vagabond’s hands had started shaking. 

 

This time it was Jack’s turn to abruptly stand up. “No. You are my friend and I want to help. You can't keep pushing us away. Talk to us. Please.”

 

  Guilt washed over Ryan. Jack was a good friend. He probably trusted her the most, it was just he couldn't tell anyone what was happening. He knew if he did his next car ride would be to the looney bin. Solitary confinement with demons did not sound like a fun time. It sounded like a bad sitcom. A remake on Friends only it's just him and the voices in his head while his arms are strapped in a white street jacket. God, how he wished he only had multiple personality disorder. At least then he could get help. 

 

  Jack sighed causing Ryan to realize he'd missed his cue to respond while he was lost in thought. 

 

  “Rye, you've been part of this crew for a long time now. I know it seems odd to someone like you, but we actually do know you. We can tell when you're not okay.” 

 

  “I'm fi-”

 

  “Ryan!” 

 

  Jack was definitely the mom of the group. Once she uses that specific tone of voice even the big scary Vagabond will shy away.

 

  Ryan flinched when Jack reached towards his chest grabbing his shirt. With a sharp tug she dragged him into his bathroom until he was in front of his mirror. He winced as he saw his yellow eyes glowing. He couldn't be possessed now. He wouldn't have this much control over the conversation he was having if he was. What were the demons pulling?

 

  “Shirt off.”

 

  “W-what?” 

 

  With a snap of her fingers, Jack pointed at Ryan's t-shirt. “Off.”

 

  “But-”

  “Now.”

 

  Ryan sighed as he slowly peeled off his shirt. He knew he looked awful, but he didn't want Jack to see. It appeared she already knew. Maybe Geoff told her after their conversation during the Vagabond’s shower. 

 

  “Jesus Ryan.”

 

  It was then Ryan realized how much he had been avoiding his reflection. He now could see that the color of his skin looked nearly grey. His bones showed more than ever and the amount of bruises and claw marks were far too many. The dark circles under his eyes made him look like his skull mask. He was frightening without all the face paint and Vagabond gear now. He looked like he was decaying. Decomposing before he was even dead. The demons weren't just using him to ransack the town, they were eating his life away. Making themselves strong while killing him. Fear tingled through his nerves. He was going to die soon.

 

  Ryan's eyes caught Jack’s in the mirror. She was watching him realize how bad this was. There were tears in her eyes. 

 

  “Who's doing this to you?” she whispered.

 

  The so called big scary Vagabond refused to face her. He opened his mouth and shut it several times before finally coming up with an acceptable answer. 

 

  “No one. Don't wor-” 

 

  If only she'd let him get his ‘acceptable answer’ out. 

 

  “Don't tell me not to worry.” Jack was breathing heavy now. Hesitation swirled in her eyes. She had something to say but didn't want to. That scared Ryan more than anything.

 

  “Jack spit it out.”

 

  For what felt like the hundredth time, she sighed a rather disappointed sigh. Ryan hated the sound. She sounded like a mother who didn't know how to fix her screw up of a kid. 

 

  “Ryan. Are you… are you on drugs?”

 

  It probably wasn't Ryan's best move to burst out laughing at the question. It was more an act of relief that that was all Jack thought was going on, but now that he thought about it, it probably seemed like all of Ryan's sanity just flew out the window. He didn't doubt it. 

 

  Through a fit of giggles, Ryan spoke. “Jack.. that’s crazy. There's no way… I mean really? Me? Why would you think…? That's insane.”

 

  “You're rambling.”

 

  “Because it's ridiculous.” Ryan's composure thankfully returned during that sentence.

 

  The look on Jack’s face was new. It wasn't sadness or anger. It wasn't even disappointment. She just looked Ryan in the eye, strangely not reacting to the fact that they were yellow, and eventually let a long breathe out of her nose. With that she shrugged and let her head hang down slightly as she turned and left the room. 

 

  The silence that followed spoke volumes. 

 

  Mentally kicking himself, Ryan cautiously closed his door, this way if anyone else tried to have a heart to heart with him he'd hear them coming. Anxiety flicked on in his mind, as he remembered his eyes weren't technically his. He needed to prepare for another possession. His eyes scanned his room. It was still before three o’clock in the afternoon. The possessions were happening earlier and more frequently as far as he could tell. Ryan wasn't having it where he'd black out and when he woke up hours later it was over. Now he got a warning. His eyes. He usually never caught his eyes changing beforehand but it seemed the price to pay was not knowing if he was possessed or not. 

 

  The confusion started to hurt his brain so he decide to make sure his door and windows were locked before anything happened. 

 

  Just to be safe he decided to check his reflection one more time. He didn't remember what it meant when his eyes went yellow and he wasn't to keen on finding out. The feeling of nausea overwhelmed the Gent as he saw how broken his body looked. Slowly his eyes took in every detail once more. He had to accept his fate. 

 

  “I'm dying.”

 

  Ryan jumped after actually saying the words out loud. He quickly looked around to make sure no one was around to hear him. Once his heart rate slowed and he was sure he was alone the closed his eyes, took a deep breath in,  and face his mirror once more. 

 

  “I'm dying.” this time there was anger. 

 

  He was beyond pissed. This wasn't fair. He made some bad choices before and this is what he gets. People of done way worse than him. At least before he joined the Fakes. 

 

  “I'm dying.” them there was fear. When he died did he go to Hell? Did these demons automatically damn him to an eternal suffering? Or was her doomed to wander this Earth, possessing some poor sap like him. 

 

  “I'm dying.” now he felt acceptance. With the new feeling he slowly opened his eyes, so he could say it one more time while her stared into his own eyes. As if he was trying to make himself understand. Once his eyes were open he tried to speak. 

 

  “I'm…”

 

  All air left his lungs as his natural blue eyes stared back. The were practically begging for help. Questioning, what happened to the demon? Why didn't it possess me? Panic and confusion set in as Ryan struggled to finish his sentence.

  
  “...dying.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There ya go! Again I'd appreciate any feedback or advice. If it was terrible let me know. If it was decent let me know. Will post again soon!


	5. Jekyll and Hyde

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There's a demon inside just like Jekyll and Hyde."
> 
> -Five Finger Death Punch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is hinting at where this is headed. Think you understand what's happening??? Let's find out.

 

   _“Look out!”_

 

_Screams filled the bright dressing room. Lights popped causing sparks to fly. Ryan felt bodies push him out of their way as they ran for safety. Outlets hissed out their own sparks. The walls cracked eventually causing the ceiling to crumble. The building was falling apart on top of them._

 

_“Keep moving!”_

 

_All the electricity in the air started a small fire. Once out of the dressing room Ryan found himself on a stage. The screaming grew louder as the stage lights collapsed above him. A loud ping alerted Ryan of his incoming demise. Fear shook through him as he watched the lights fall towards him causing him to freeze where he stood._

 

_“Ryan!”_

 

_Strong hands pushed in between Ryan's shoulder blades. With a sloppy roll out of the way the model in training was safe from the decaying lights. Blue eyes snapped up to see his savior, only to meet sad brown eyes under the fallen equipment. Blood dripped from the man's mouth as he reached out for Ryan. The surviving man watched as the life drained out of the face that stared back, waiting to be saved._

 

_“Jeremy!”_

 

Ryan awoke with a loud gasp. A huge breath of air filled his lungs as he scanned his surroundings. Fear filled his tired eyes. He was alone in his room, heart racing as he tried to understand what that dream meant. Shaking hands rubbed over his tear filled eyes. When had he started crying? With a quivering breath he looked to his alarm clock.

 

  4:36 am.

 

  Of course the one night the demonic personas left him alone he has a nightmare. They weren't uncommon for the Vagabond. Just confusing. Each one ended with a crew mate dying. He could only hope it wasn't a warning that he was eventually going to kill them. The chances of that happening were to high for Ryan's liking. In the end it didn't matter, he'd rather deal with nightmares instead of his so called friends on the other side. Besides in a few more hours he was going on a heist again. Geoff’s time out was finally over, only Ryan wasn't sure why he cared. He was slowly accepting the fact that he was becoming the Vagabond. It did scare him to think that maybe he was the Vagabond all along and there was no demon. The other five demons made sure to remind him he wasn't actually alone though.

 

  It still sickened him knowing that he knew nothing about the demonic parasites except the color they made his eyes. There was orange, yellow, red, green, and purple. Ryan was sure there was another somewhere in there but he never got to see his eyes change to any other colors, before a possession, but those. He just assumed that was the Vagabond.

 

  The clock now read 5:48 am.

 

  He had spent over an hour trapped in his mind. A dangerous place to wander he would often think.

 

  “This sucks.” he spoke to no one.

 

  So what I'd he talked to himself. He was bitter. He was also dying so he could do whatever he wanted to.

 

  Then it hit him.

 

  “I don't want to die?”

 

  Why it was a question. He didn't know. It felt odd to want to fight. Did he deserve to keep going? What felt like static shocked his brain as a brief flashback blinded his vision.

 

  He was back on that stage surrounded by screaming. Someone called for him to save them, only it wasn't Jeremy.

 

  Just as quickly as it had started, the vision was gone. Ryan feared that some part of this memory or whatever it was had to be true. He remembered that stage way to well, but there was no way the Crew was there with him. Right?

 

  “Why can't I remember?”

 

  Whatever this mental torture was it was the real reason Ryan was being punished by these demons. He knew the terms. He messed up and this was his punishment. If only he could remember what had damned him to this life instead of letting him die.

  


  A knock on the door startled the Vagabond. The intruder didn't wait for him to open the door.

 

  “You ready Ryan? You and I are on ground control today so you up for some Team Crazy Mad?”

 

  Ryan couldn't help but smile at the normally angry Lad. Michael knew how to bring out the fun in their line of work.

 

  “Uh yea. Let me get dressed real quick. I'll be out soon.”

 

  Michael nodded before speaking. “Well don't take to long on your face paint. Also, I get that it looks cool, but you do know you're not suppose to sleep with contacts in.”

 

  Ryan watched Michael leave with a confused look on his tired face. Michael didn't hear the man repeat his words.

 

  “Contacts?”

 

  Understanding dawned on the man as he stumbled off his bed into his bathroom. Red eyes burned back at him. They resembled lava. It was like a volcano about to erupt. It actually reminded Ryan of Michael, before he gets angry.

 

  “What?”

 

  Whatever these demons were up to, Ryan wasn't exactly keen on finding out. With an aggressive breath out of his nostrils, similar to a bull, Ryan began to work on his outfit for the heist.

 

*  *  *  *

 

  “Look out!”

 

  Everything had gone to shit. A part of Ryan was glad it wasn't because of his lack of practice. The LSPD had finally brought their A game for once, and managed to arrive on the scene within minutes. They had blocked off the getaway car, thankfully Jack had felt something was off and wasn't still waiting in the driver's seat, and practically had the bank surrounded. Somehow, Michael had found himself next to Geoff in the mess of everything, even though he and Ryan were paired up for the day. Ryan wasn't complaining, he was just worried that if something happened he wouldn't be there to make sure his heist partner was safe. That was part of the job after all. But instead the Vagabond now had one Rimmy Tim sprinting down an alley with him. Sweat was building up behind Ryan's mask causing the face paint to smear. Again he wasn't complaining.

 

  “Keep moving!”

 

   Jeremy was faster than Ryan. He had looked over his shoulder to make sure the latter heard him before he expertly jumped onto a dumpster and practically ran up the wall it was next to, until he was high enough to plié off said wall over the fence that made this route a dead end.

 

  Exhaustion washed over Ryan. There was no way he could get over that fence. It was too high and not suitable for climbing. Especially in his weakened state, what with the lack of care he had been partaking in. The only way over was basically Jeremy's way.

 

  Brown eyes met Ryan's bright purple eyes through the fence and the dark skull mask. It was as if he knew what the Vagabond was thinking. Any conversation was halted as a police cruiser sped towards Ryan for the direction they came, sirens screaming.

 

  “Ryan!”

 

  There was no time for debate. Ryan took a deep breath and sprinted towards the dumpster. If anyone had been paying attention a little too well they would have noticed the purple in Ryan's eyes start to glow.

 

  With ease his legs pushed him onto the trash bin just before the cop car reached the end of the alleyway. With speed he's never had, Ryan propelled himself towards the wall, repeating Jeremy's actions. Gunshots followed at his feet as he scaled the building before pushing all of his weight over the fence. Every bullet missed their target and while the trained shooters reloaded their weapons, Ryan landed on his feet next to Jeremy. They shared a look before waving to the cops and running to meet with the others.

 

  The sound of their feet hiring ground echoed down the back alleys of Los Santos. Jeremy's laugh was heard over the sound.

 

  “Rye, that was awesome. I've never seen you move like that. How did you-”

 

  “Adrenaline I guess. Don't read too much into it. It wasn't that big of a deal.”

 

  Jeremy's face showed confusion and disappointment. “Look, Ryan you don't have to be so dismissive all of the time. We're friends. I trust you. We all do, so would it kill you to-”

 

  This time it wasn't Ryan who interrupted the Lad. The echo of the gunshot was the worst sound Ryan had ever heard. Jeremy fell like an animal hunted for sport. An angry Vagabond spun around to shoot the one cop that had followed them. Blood sprayed for the poor man's skull as the bullet left a hole right between the officer's eyes. He tried to be a hero and now he was just another casualty.

 

  “Jeremy!”

 

  Ryan's vision blurred as his heart rate picked up. He was back on the stage. Now in the alley. Then on the stage. He was screaming for Jeremy to wake up. Blood was everywhere. Someone called his name in the distance. It sounded like Geoff. Now he was in the alley, only Jeremy was gone. Only Ryan sat there with a bullet hole in his right calf. His own blood pooled around him. His gun was smoking. The cop was still dead. Static filled his mind as the stage flashed by again with a crushed Jeremy in front of him.

 

  “Jeremy?”

 

  Ryan's eyes flashed between purple and their natural blue inside of his mask. He was in the alley again. Jeremy laid in front of him holding his right calf. His blood pooled around both of them.

 

  “Ryan. I'm okay. This just hurts pretty fucking badly. Think ya can carry me to the vantage point?”  

 

  Ryan shook his head to clear his hallucinations. “I got you Lil J.”

 

  The Vagabond’s shaking hands pulled a now sweating Jeremy onto his feet, keeping his weight off his right leg. Jeremy's left arm wrapped around Ryan's shoulder while Ryan's right arm wrapped around the shorter man's waist. The two began to hobble towards the street in hopes to get to the others.

  
  Ryan's worry was pushed into the back of his mind as it tried to wonder what was all of that about. The Vagabond instead pushed forward, closing his eyes to take a breath in and then out before letting his purple eyes reopen and search for another attack while they continued their trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned guys. This is only the beginning.
> 
> *Evil Laugh*


	6. Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity"
> 
> -Edgar Allan Poe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo, I've been gone a long while. Family issues, medical issues, new career opportunities. All of that ya know. I hope this chapter finds you all well and I hope it doesn't suck. 
> 
> Enjoy!

 

  Safehouse 11. The walls smelled of mold. Wallpaper had started to peel off them a long time ago. An old clock ticked the day away, making an unsettling echo throughout the house as it was the only sound around  beside the cars that drove by, unaware of the house's true purpose. There were signs of carpet being torn off the floors, leaving a rough floorboard behind. Blood footprints stained the wood, starting at the back door until they reached the dining room. A shaky Vagabond sat at the table, eyes glued to his phone as he waited for a call from the others. 

 

  “I'm cold.”

 

  Ryan’s lip twitched into a grimace at the comment, yet he still never looked away from the phone. 

 

  “You shouldn't be walking around with your leg, Jeremy.”

 

  “I'm fine. Just cold.”

 

  “Blood loss will do that to a guy.”

 

  The sound of Jeremy humming made Ryan's purple eyes glance up. Jeremy had removed his jacket once they had gotten to this nearly forgotten safehouse. His right pant leg had gone red from blood. The bandages around said leg weren't going to last much longer. They needed to get to the other before the Lad lost too much blood. 

 

  “Rye..?”

 

  “What?”

 

  “What happened back there? You kind of froze. I've never seen you do that before.” 

 

  Ryan quickly scoffed at the conversation he didn't want to be a part of. He began to hope Jeremy would leave if he didn't answer. 

 

  Hope must have hated him, because instead of leaving, the younger of the two hobbled over to sit at the table next to Ryan who had proceeded to stare at his phone.

 

  “You don't want to talk about yourself, fine. Let's talk about me.”

 

  While Ryan's eyes never moved, his eyebrow raised at the direction Jeremy was headed in. 

 

  “When I joined the Crew I had no persona. No Rimmy Tim. Just the orange prison jumpsuit I had when I broke out of jail and some dumb hat I stole to hide my face til the heat died down.  The first person I met out of you guys was Michael. He saw I was in a tough spot and threw his jacket over my back and brought me to Geoff who you know, offered a job. At first it was grunt work but then I was slowly added to the main six. Yet I still had no persona like you guys. Then I met you. You gave me the idea to add purple to my character.”

 

  “I don't wear purple Jeremy.”

 

  The Lad, in return, laughed. “No not your clothes. Your eyes. Those purple contacts you use are sick as dicks so I decided to use it.” 

 

  Ryan felt his blood run cold. “My eyes?”

 

  “Yea. I mean they are contacts right? I've never seen you without them.”

 

  Ryan contemplated the choices he had in front of him. He could lie and say he was a sucker for purple or continue this awful conversation with the truth. He ignored the main question in the back of his mind. Why did Jeremy only see the purple?

 

  “Contacts can help hide my identity. How many people do you know with natural purple eyes?”

 

  “Well not natural-”

 

  “Exactly.”

 

  Sweat was rolling down Jeremy’s neck like bullets. Ryan could see the light from outside bouncing off of it, giving the Lad a sheen of near death. 

 

  “They won't call you know. Too risky. For them and us.”

 

  Ryan hated how right the injured man was. 

  Without another word, Jeremy hoisted himself to his feet. Once taller than Ryan, he patted a cold hand onto the Vagabond’s shoulder in hopes to comfort the man. Instantly Ryan was sent back into his mind, falling through his memories. 

 

*  * *  * *

 

_ “Everyone meet back here tomorrow. Tech week starts at eight in the morning everyone. That means you Gavin.” _

 

_   Laughter filled the auditorium as Ryan listened to the director of Los Santos’ newest play ordered the giddy Brit around.  _

 

_   He had made it. Not necessarily the big time considering the play he was part of was a low budget production called, ‘Sky Factory’ where he portrayed one of six Gods who all shared one goal. Make a world from a single tree. Was it a good story? Depends on who you ask, but to Ryan it was his first show in a big city.  _

 

_   “Hey Rye, excited? Tech week always gives me the adrenaline rush I need before the actual show.”  _

 

_   Inches below Ryan’s line of sight stood a relaxed and sarcastic lad, who Ryan couldn't help but be drawn too since he had moved here.  _

 

_   “Ray, for the last time, please stop calling me Rye.” _

 

_   “Sure thing, Rye Bread.” Ray laughed with a wink. _

 

_   “I'm not bread.” _

 

_   The younger of the two shrugged his shoulders which once again were hidden under a purple hoodie that hung the perfect amount of loose on him. Glasses rested on the lads face while a black beanie on his head, helped his ears hold it in place. Ray was honestly a nerd and yet ex-model Haywood was smitten since day one of auditions.  _

 

_   “Look, I'm going to hang out with Michael and Gavin tonight. They said they invited one of the tech guys with them so I figured I'd go with. You try not to stress out before tomorrow.” Ray reached up to pat a hand on Ryan's shoulder in an act of comfort.  _

 

*  * *  * *

 

  Ryan sucked in air hard enough to break a bone as he snapped out of his trance. 

 

  “Whoa, Ryan are you okay? What was that?” 

 

  Still purple eye scanned every surrounding until they found Jeremy. Concern stared back at the Vagabond as the man's breathing returned to normal. Words wouldn't leave Ryan's throat as he tried to explain himself. Honestly he didn't know what happened himself. Who was that in the vision? Why were Michael and Gavin part of it all? Why was it all so foreign yet so familiar? Nothing made sense. He couldn't tell what was real anymore. Finally Ryan found his voice. 

 

  “We have to leave this place.”

 

  “No, not until you tell me where you just went.”

 

  Ryan knew he was faster than Jeremy while the Lad was in this condition. If he could get out the door quickly, he'd have to follow whether he wanted to or not.

 

  “Ryan!”

 

  Why the scary Vagabond froze at the door, he didn't know.

 

  The clock’s ticking was heard once again, no doubt the time on it was wrong. A look out a window told them much time had passed since their arrival. Street lights were on and the traffic had picked up. Everyone driving home from work no doubt. Ryan just wanted to go home too. He wanted to clock out from work for the day. The desire to leave grew as he noticed his reflection in the door window. He could see purple eyes staring back. 

 

  “I'm going. You can join me or stay here. The choice is yours.” 

 

  With that Ryan opened the door and stormed out, marching through the dirt and grime of outer Los Santos. Purple drained from his eyes as he left Jeremy standing in that safehouse, leaving bloody footprints wherever he stepped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feels good to be back at this. Hope it's still decent like the first parts.
> 
> Feedback is as always appreciated.


	7. Game of Survival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Are we the hunters or are we the prey?"
> 
> -Ruelle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to another installment of O' Death. 
> 
> I'm so glad to be back at this and I hope you guys enjoy the ride. Things are gonna get dark.

 

  The sound of leaves and gravel crunching under blood stained shoes practically screamed in the night. Guilt ate at the, already mentally defeated, Vagabond. Leaving the only safe house around for miles wasn't his smartest move and leaving an injured Rimmy Tim there, alone, was even dumber. He wouldn't admit it, but the fact that the Lad hadn't left with him hurt Ryan. 

 

  Dark clouds were beginning to form up above. Really, it was like Ryan's life was a bad story book with one of those “At least it's not raining,” moments straight ahead. Part of him just dared himself to ask what could go wrong next, but with his luck the universe would answer back with an extra order of screw you on top. 

 

  The Gent almost asked for one of his demons to join his situation, that way he'd at least get out of all this walking. The sound of footsteps hitting sidewalk alerted the exhausted man of his arrival at the edge of downtown Los Santos. 

 

  ‘ _ How long have I been walking?’ _

 

  Lightning flashed in the distance. A dark storm was on its way and part of the Vagabond wondered if that was a sign directed at him or actually just the weather. 

 

  Cars raced by unaware of who was walking around the city streets. If only they noticed who he was, maybe someone would just run him over and end this internal struggle that was going on under the skull mask. It was either good luck or bad luck that it was dark enough for no one to identify him. Ryan wasn't sure anymore. 

 

**_‘You're gonna kill the crew you know?’_ **

 

__ “Great, now I'm hearing voices.”

 

**_‘Talking to yourself, eh Haywood?’_ **

 

__ “I ignored Jeremy, I can do the same to you.” a passing civilian raised an eyebrow at the masked man speaking to no one, picking up his pace as he passed the Vagabond.

 

**_‘Yes, you did ignore the colorful kid and now guess who might die.’_ **

 

__ The urge to answer was too high for Ryan's liking. He wanted to defend himself so badly. Prove he wasn't awful. Who he was trying to prove that to wasn't clear anymore. Was he proving his crew? The city? Himself? 

 

**_‘Sure you're dying, but you'll kill them first. You've seen it yourself.’_ **

 

__ That god awful stage flashed by in Ryan's brain again. 

 

_ Blood was dripping off the edge of the now destroyed stage. Glass was scattered everywhere thanks to the broken stage lights that had fallen from the ceiling or had been knocked over backstage during the panic. Flames licked at the curtains and wires sparked at random, adding bright pockets of light to the dark corners the fire hadn't lit yet. The exit door in the back was wedged open by the body that had fallen dead while running. A handful of deceased cast members lay through the blue auditorium seats, now stained red. Bullet holes littered the walls, seats, and bodies.  _

 

_   In the center of it all stood Ryan, machine gun in hand, covered in blood. _

 

_ *  * *  * *  _

 

__ Tired blue eyes struggled to open and take in their surroundings. Out of all the places Ryan expected to find himself after another black out, his room was the last place. 

 

  His bones ached and practically burned as if they were made of hot metal. There was a distant burn in his right leg. The possibility of a torn muscle seemed high at this point considering there was no memory of how he had gotten home. Then the feeling of nausea hit Ryan hard as one thing came to mind. 

 

  “Jeremy.”

 

  The call went unnoticed thanks to how quiet Ryan sounded. Yelling was off the table and it appeared so was moving for the time being. Once again he was physically stuck where he lay, his mind being the only thing functioning. All the Vagabond could do was lay there and wait for a friend to enter his room and tell him everything. Strangely enough, the idea of praying for the Lad crossed his mind. 

 

**_‘A damned man asking for the Lord's help? You really don't get it do you?’_ **

 

__ Without his voice Ryan couldn't order his demons to “Shut up,” like he so desperately wanted too.

 

**_‘Don't fret. I'm in your mind. Of course I know what you want to say, but for now it's my turn to talk.’_ **

 

__ The room temperature was dropping drastically. Ryan's skin crawled as the hairs on his arms stood up. With a little more time it wouldn't be a surprise if he could see his breath. 

__

**_‘It's really a shame you don't see the whole picture here. It's a beautiful one indeed. The devil's finest work of art honestly.’_ **

 

__ A distant echo laughter filled the room. It sounded just like Ryan only completely mad. 

 

**_‘I'll give you a hint, James.’_ **

 

__ The feeling of someone getting closer pushed its way towards the scared gent. 

 

**_‘I'm not one of those demons running around in that pretty head of yours.’_ **

 

__ “No.” Ryan's voice, slightly louder now, trembled as he desperately wanted to ignore the monster in his mind. 

 

**_‘I've been in here since the start.’_ **

 

  A heavy weight pushed on Ryan's shoulders, holding him to the mattress he was trapped to. He wanted to struggle. He wanted to run. His name was the Vagabond for a reason. He could just leave and ignore this  _ thing  _ that wouldn't let go. 

 

  Chills ran down his spine as he felt someone breathe in his ear.

 

**_‘You can't outrun me.’_ **

 

**** The maniacal laugh returned, this time it was for sure his own laugh.

 

**_‘I'm what makes you the Vagabond.’_ **

 

**** Screams left Ryan's throat and filled the room as his body sat straight up. The cold air fled the room as quickly as it had entered. Fear knocked at the man's heart, causing it to race and echo in his ears. Sweat made his shirt stick to his torso. Everything trembled uncontrollably. His throat felt raw from shrieking, yet once Ryan calmed down he realized something that had put him on edge once again. No one came to see what was wrong.

 

  For the first time in years, Ryan felt truly alone. 

 

__

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far, thank you kindly for sticking around. 
> 
> Any comments, questions, or concerns?

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated. I plan on adding a new chapter once a week so keep a look out! 
> 
> To hear more of my ramblings give me a follow!
> 
> Tumblr- ah-technical-difficulties.tumblr.com
> 
> Each chapter comes with a song! Give a listen here: https://open.spotify.com/user/savdance5678/playlist/4vTYLGtHQz73yfU9DnauiG


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